Playing Games
by notare
Summary: Rory Gilmore-Hayden is thrust into a relationship with one Logan Huntzberger in hopes to tame the young playboy and to secure a worthy husband in the process. Little do the elder Gilmores and Huntzbergers realize that Rory and Logan have their own rules, the question becomes will they both win... or lose.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** _I originally wrote this, previously titled "False Hopes" under the name "plumlucky" many, many, moons ago and never finished. Needless to say, almost a decade later, I don't have access to that login nor can I produce the recovery information for it. It always stuck with me, especially after AYITL came out, and I desperately wanted to finish this idea, so I figure I'd try. FF does have a "one unique story per site" rule, so I've changed the Title, cleaned up any mistakes I could find, and straightened out some story lines._

* * *

 **One**

Rory knew by the tone in her Grandmother's voice that something was up. She was asking Rory to come to dinner, key word: asking. Emily Gilmore never asked unless she had something up her sleeve and Rory new full well what Emily Gilmore was capable of.

She wished she could just be alone, with her homework and her books, to finish her final year of Yale out in peace before escaping into the world of journalism or anything else for that matter, but the matriarch Gilmore always seemed to have other plans, plans Rory knew full well revolved around Hartford Society and Rory's place in it.

She may not have had a conventional upbringing and her arrival to the world had been surrounded by scandal, but Lorelei Gilmore-Hayden had an inheritance to live up to. As the sole surviving heir of both the Gilmore Insurance Group and Hayden Development Corporation, Rory was steps away from having a fortune handed to her and one day they both would be completely under her jurisdiction. No pressure or anything.

As she listened to the voice mail her Grandmother had left her, rambling on about specifics she cared nothing about, that familiar aching in her heart began as it always did. She missed her mom and their crazy conversations and desperately wished she was there to play interference with her Grandparents as she so often had before. But after her untimely death 2 years ago, Rory was left alone, and she just didn't have the attitude, or the spine, that her mother had to maintain any sort of boundaries. Rory might as well have changed her name to Doormat.

Since her mother had passed away her grandparents had been starring a little too much in the show that was her life. Their presence had been a relief immediately after her death, they had seen to all the arrangements, something a 19-year-old Rory just couldn't wrap her head around at the time. It was the beginning of the end she soon realized, as their monthly dinner had turned into weekly dinners, the phone calls increased dramatically, and her grandmother had even managed to get her involved with the DAR over the summer, much to Rory's dismay. Suddenly the world that she had built and managed over the years had been subject to a hostile takeover.

She erased the message, immediately walking over to her giant calendar of events, crossing off "Book Club" this Saturday night and inking it "Dinner at the Gilmore's", sighing as she dialed the all too familiar number.

"Hello, Grandma" she called into the phone, trying her best to sound polite.

"Rory, darling!" a voice cooed back, "Did you get my message?"

"Yes, Grandma, I've put it on my calendar, I was just letting you know I'd be there."

"Fantastic! We are having a few other guests and I want you to look your best. It's going to be semi-formal attire, so a long gown would be appropriate, perhaps that dress I got you in Paris?"

"That sounds delightful," she responded, trying her best not to gag on her own words.

"Wonderful, wonderful, we'll send a car around 6:30."

"I'll see you then, have a good night, Grandma."

"See you then, sweetheart, we love you," and with that they hung up.

Not having anything of her own to look forward to, the week flew by, much to her dismay. She was careful to wear the dress her grandmother had requested and made herself as Emily approved as she could.

She paused briefly as she headed to the door. Recalling the times her mother and her would take turns asking to ditch and run to Luke's for dinner instead.

She forced the memory away and smiled. She rang the bell, immediately ushered in by the butler who took her wrap and announced her arrival.

"Rory you look lovely," her grandmother said kissing her check lightly, careful not to transfer her lipstick.

"Thank you," she smiled graciously, happy to have gotten it right and not to have been immediately been whisked upstairs for a "redo".

"Ah, Rory," her grandfather bellowed, kissing her forehead and taking her by the arm, "so lovely to see you and so soon after out last visit," he said as he steered her toward the parlor.

"Nice to see you as well," she smiled, genuinely happy to see her Grandfather who shared her love of reading and news and politics, holding onto him like a life line as to not be sucked into the whirlpool that was Emily Gilmore.

"Now, our other guests are already here and are most looking forward to see you!" her grandmother went on, grinning as she turned the corner leading them into a basically empty room, except of course for Mitchum and Shira Huntzberger, whom Rory recognized from previous gatherings at the Gilmore Estate, and a tall, handsome, young man, who – though they had never met – Rory knew by reputation as the illustrious Logan Huntzberger, playboy extraordinaire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

What on earth was he doing here? He should be out with his friends, it was open mic night at the pub and Finn had planned on singing the entire Journey album which, though disturbing, was way more appealing than this. Instead, he was sitting in another endless mansion with his parents of all people. For what? A dinner or something, which, now that he thought about it, was kind of odd – no one else was there. No boring couples from the club, no overly enthusiastic members of his mother's DAR; it was only Huntzberger and Gilmore. Now, if he had had normal parents, he wouldn't think anything of it, but he didn't have normal parents and it was starting to dawn on him that something was up. Given that he was also in a brand new thousand dollar suit that his mother had insisted he wore, he was beginning to think that whatever was up was major.

The door bell had rung and Richard and Emily excused themselves, rushing to greet whoever was apparently going to be the fourth guest. He was thankful there was going to be one more to this little awkward soiree but quite unhappy that there was no chance to form a sub-party, a sub-party he was quite hoping would take place in Richard's study with the hundred year old bottles of scotch. Such is life he sighed, feeling increasingly more hopeless.

Then she came in.

She wasn't his normal type. No, not even close. Her hair was sleek and dark, not like the teased out blondes he normally got with. Her figure was long, lean, and somehow petite, not like the surgically enhanced big-chested girls he brought to bed. And most of all, her dress, somehow her dress was incredibly revealing, but not in the showing too much kind of way, in fact she was mostly covered, it was how it hugged her body. And my God, those eyes, they held the depth of the sea within them.

This was Lorelei Gilmore-Hayden, Rory for short, who was quite possibly the biggest heiress in the country, maybe even the world. Logan only knew her by reputation, they didn't exactly follow the same circles, in fact, Rory didn't really follow any circles. Her upbringing was completely unconventional, born to society's golden couple, Lorelei Gilmore and Christopher Hayden, who were unmarried and 16 at the time, and taken away from the prying eyes of society to be raised in a little no-name town American sort of place. At least that was what Logan had heard. She really hadn't shown up on the scene until about four years ago and even then it was sparse, no, Rory Gilmore-Hayden had really splashed into society until two years ago when her mother had passed away. That was when her grandmother had gotten her hooks into her and suddenly Rory was attending events, helping host DAR events and was throw under the proverbial bus of society.

So why was he, society's very own bad boy, with his carefree attitude that had gotten him into loads of trouble more than once, in the same room with the pride and joy of all of Hartford?

"I'd like to present out granddaughter," Richard spoke, pulling Logan from his speeding train of thought, "Rory Gilmore-Hayden," the eldest Gilmore positively glowed at her name. "Rory, this is Mitchum and Shira Huntzberger," he turned her toward them and they shook hands politely, "whom you have had the joy of meeting before and this," he finished, turning so that Rory was right in front of him, "is their son, Logan."

"Pleasure to meet you," she extended her hand, "I'm Rory."

Logan stared at her hand for a brief moment, caught off guard for only a fraction of a second before rolling into the classic Huntzberger charm he had perfected all those years ago in school. He took her hand, brought it up to his lips and kissed it ever so lightly. "The pleasure is all mine," he grinned.

Rory all but snatched her hand away from the tom cat in front of her. She might not know him personally but she knew enough not to get sucked into the appeal of one Logan Huntzberger.

"It's a wonder you two have never met," his mother smiled, "after all, you both are on the paper at Yale."

"The boy would need to grace the newsroom with his presence every once in a while to be 'on the paper'" his father remarked, taking a swig of his scotch.

"Wouldn't want them to think I'm cheap," Logan flashed a smile, "showing up all the time and all."

This earned a slight giggle from her grandmother, absolutely flooring Rory. That was something her mother would laugh at, hell, that was something her mother would have said. "Isn't he clever Rory?" Emily exclaimed, quite tickled and taken by the youngest Huntzberger.

"Sharp boy," Richard agreed.

"He's got some wild oats to sow," Mitchum went on, "but he'll make a good successor one day," he managed to get out with only a hint of doubt in his voice. Clearly he was hoping Logan would one day outgrow his wildness, take over Huntzberger Publishing Company, and become the son he had always wanted. Logan had obviously not demonstrated any of this, but his parents still apparently had hope.

Dinner proceeded like every other tight, stuck up dinner Rory had ever been to. She was seated across from Logan though they did not speak. What did she have to say? She knew nothing about him, had nothing to converse about. Instead, she spent the whole meal tense, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Logan appeared to be on egg shells as well, only adding to her worry. There was obviously something going on, but it seemed as though only Rory and Logan were in the dark.

And the dark remained pitch black until after dinner, when the bomb of all bombs was dropped in the middle of the living room and Rory's world was suddenly Hiroshima, just like it had been when her mother died, and she knew, deep down, that nothing would ever be the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

"You want us to what?" he practically spat out.

"You heard me son," Mitchum replied.

"But that is just," he paused, attempting to clear his mind of the insanity that had just be brought upon him, "crazy!"

"Logan," his mother started, "did you think you were going to be able to continue like this forever? Spending money, getting drunk, getting arrested, sleeping around… with absolutely no plan for the future?" she shrieked.

"No, but I didn't expect to be auctioned off to the highest bidder!" he roared.

"That's not what happened," Richard began. Logan look to Rory, who a few seconds ago was calm and well, standing. She was now sitting, obviously crumpled by the latest turn of events and he had watched her knees basically go numb as she had sunken down into the nearest chair. She starred at her hands, twisting her ring subconsciously, her fingers working to keep occupied, but she was utterly quiet and still. "It's not like we are asking you two to marry, we simply want you to date, to entertain the idea that this might be a glorious match." Richard explained. "Rory is not accustomed to this world and she has duties to uphold, you have a reputation to live down and need to start being taken seriously. This is an opportunity, she is a smart and beautiful girl, and you would be a lucky man to have her end up at your side."

Had the whole world gone mad? This wasn't the dark ages where spouses were chosen for you at birth. And how could Rory be so calm! She was just sitting there. She should be outraged, she should be angry, she should be as infuriated with them as he was.

"You have to do this son," Mitchum said, as close to Logan as he dared to get. "You have to start settling down. You grandfather is fully retiring next month, the company will be solely mine and on graduating you will become Vice-President of operations. This is your path. This has been your path. The time for goofing off is over, it's high time you stepped up to the hand you've been dealt."

"You don't even care how I feel about this do you?" Logan asked, already aware of the answer.

"You don't even know how you feel," he father replied, "about anything," and the words stung at Logan in a way he never expected. "It's a date Logan, it's a simple request that you and Rory," he father motioned to Rory to grab her attention as well, "see how you fit."

"Rory loves to write, to read, to debate, and she's wanted to be a journalist for as long as she can remember," Emily replied, "your family owns newspapers for goodness sake!She used to pretend to read the New York Times when she was 4, your New York Times as it turns out. You two share more in common than you might think, all we ask is that you give it a try."

"All you demand Emily," Logan spat, not caring for pleasantries at this point, "all ALL of you demand," he stressed. He turned to Rory, whose face was void of any emotion. Was she really buying into all this? Had a few short years around this turned her into a robot? Surely Rory, whose mother escaped society without turning back, had to have learned something about this growing up. Had to have learned that you didn't have to play by their rules, that you could make your own, you could blaze your own path. If she had, she wasn't giving it away now.

"One date?" Logan questioned, knowing it had to be more than just a date for the length they had gone through tonight.

"One year," Mitchum replied.

"And if I refuse?" he questioned.

"It will strongly impact your trust, as in, there won't be one." he father answered matter-of-factly.

Logan dropped his face into his hands, searching for calm, for strength, for an escape route.

"May Logan and I have a moment to ourselves," a sweet symphonic voice chimed in.

"Of course darling," Emily immediately grabbed for Richard's arm and was about to usher everyone to the door, before Rory stopped them.

"No need," she smiled, rising gracefully off her perch, gliding over to where Logan stood. "Care to take a walk with me in the garden," she asked him, her eyes bright, soft, and sweet.

Logan offered his arm, intrigued by her silence and now her response, perhaps they were escaping together. She hooked her arm in his, gently holding on but leaning closer to him than he anticipated. The look on his parent's and her grandparent's faces was priceless as they walked through the French doors and out into the night.

"They are nuts," he blurted out immediately as the doors closed, unable to pretend anything that had just transpired was even close to alright. Still, she remained silent and Logan glanced back at the house where the curtains moved, and he turned his attention back to her. Not only had they been thrust together, they were now under surveillance. Could this night get any stranger?

"I think we should do it," she whispered, stopping Logan in his tracks.

Yes, yes it could.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

She knew that he was completely thrown off guard by her answer. No one in their right mind would ever agree to something so antiquated and old-fashioned, yet the moment she really started thinking about what they had had asked of them, the more excited Rory had become.

This was her chance for escape, to be left alone, because if her grandparents thought she was busy with one Logan Huntzberger, they might leave her be, if even just for a year. The best was there would be no more pressure of dating, of parading her around like she was the prize mare, or surprise dinner parties with nothing but eligible bachelors. This could actually _help_ her.

"I'm sorry," he looked at her confused, "I swore you just said you thought we should agree to that bullshit!"

"Here me out, Huntzberger, if we do this, we have a year of peace, a whole year. I could finish Yale without being bombarded with the life that is Gilmore-Hayden and you could finish Yale doing, well, whatever it is that you do there. Just because we are agreeing to their deal, doesn't mean we have to play by their rules. We can make our own. We can fake this," she finished.

"Have a fake relationship," he replied and she nodded. "Us?" he questioned again.

"No, the other two people in there that were being taken to the sacrificial table," she snipped, "yes, Logan, us."

"No one would believe that," he shrugged his shoulders, turning from her and pacing along the garden path, hands on his .

"And exactly why not?" she retorted, his attitude increasing her agitation.

"Do you even know my reputation?" he asked. "No one in their right minds would think that we were a couple. I don't do girlfriends."

"Fine then," she started, folding her arms over her chest. "You can just march right in there and tell them no deal. Then you can turn over your AMEX Black Card, the BMW, the yacht, oh, and your multimillion dollar trust fund. Go ahead; I'll be right behind you because, in case you didn't notice, there was no mention of my trust or inheritance, Logan. If you decline, I'm sure Richard and Emily will be on the phones with the next in line on their wealthy friends list, whereas, I'm the answer to your parent's prayers. I'm their last resort and your best chance."

"You're crazy. In fact, this whole thing is crazy," he said, sitting on the stone bench, burying his face in his hands.

"I know," she nodded, "but your family is fed up with the life you lead Logan, I haven't even met you and I know what sort of trouble you get into. I'm apparently your golden ticket to redemption. The sweet, innocent, poster child of Society" she mocked, using her hands to frame her face, "and though I might be new to it, I'm welcomed with open arms, you however, are treading on very thin ice."

"So what's your plan?" he asked, knowing whole heartedly that she was right.

"We agree to their deal and whatever terms and conditions they come up with. We go back to Yale. We do what we do; only occasionally, we do it together."

"We have sex?" he questioned, eyebrows raised.

"What?" she replied, taken completely off guard, "no, that's not what I said."

"You said we do 'it' together," he grinned.

"Seriously, Logan?" she responded completely flabbergasted, amazed at his one track mind.

"I'm just saying, that is part of a relationship you know, sex," he reasoned.

"Not this one," she reminded him.

"See, that's what I'm talking about! Forever I've been one way, suddenly that is supposed to change. Face it Gilmore, no one will believe this is serious if I'm not sleeping with you," he reasoned.

"Then we'll fake that too," Rory responded matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure you're great at faking that," he quipped, closing his eyes again and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You know Logan, if you have a better idea, then I'm all ears. Because this is the best we've got right now. To go along with this, to fool our families into thinking they've gotten their way, because if we do, we get to finally shut them up!"

She watched him, the cogs turning in his brain, knowing he was attempting to think of anything that might circumvent the task in front of them, yet he remained quiet. He knew as well as she did there was no plan B, all he had was giving in to their families plan A, but thankfully, doing it under their own conditions.

"So, back to your plan," he sighed.

"When we get back to Yale, we go out on a few dates, attend all the high profile functions. I'll tell my grandparents how wonderful you are, how well this is actually turning out. You'll tell your parents that I'm amazing and a relationship was the best thing that could have happened to you. In a few months, when people start to think we should be," she blushed, "sleeping together, we'll take turns staying at each other's places. It'll be awkward, but we'll manage. I mean, we can at least be friends."

"And what about the real sex I'm going to want to have?" he asked, completely serious. "Certainly you aren't expecting celibacy," he clarified.

"Logan, no one in that room expects you to be faithful to me, they will however, expect discretion," she explained. "Complete and total discretion," she reiterated, "because if you get caught 'cheating', I'll only be able to forgive you once, maybe twice before people become suspicious and who knows what consequences lie in breaking the deal."

"You are serious about this aren't you?" he asked once more, unable to hide his shock at her put-together plan as well as her conniving.

"As a heart attack," she responded. "You'll have to play the doting boyfriend, unusual for you I know, but in the end I think we could do this. We can meet up back at Yale and go over some specifics, but heck, half the time we spend together you could be playing video games and I could be doing homework. They aren't going to want a play-by-play of our time together as long as we are together. We'll just let them assume."

He stared at her for a few short moments and she knew he was reviewing all that had been said, it was now of never and he was going to do this or he wasn't.

"So we have a deal?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Ace, the whole time in there I thought you had lost it and turned into one of the 'Stepford Wives' and all along you were rounding up a rebellion and getting ready for combat," he smiled. "I like you more already," he added, sticking his hand into hers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

"We'll do it," Logan declared the moment they walked in the door, Rory still anchored down onto his arm.

"Wonderful!" his mother and Emily exclaimed almost simultaneously.

"So what now?" he asked, "I'm sure there are papers to sign?"

With that they were led into the dining room where their contracts awaited them. For one year they would date and behave as a couple, it was only on the anniversary of this dinner that they would be able to decide their own fate. Until then, Logan was to be completely devoted to Rory and Rory in turn was supposed to use her shining reputation to polish off Logan's dusty halo. Most importantly, they could not tell anyone about the arrangement.

Their families hoped that after a year they would be comfortable enough to move forward, after all no one really expected them to fall in love. Logan wasn't even sure he even believed in love. Relationships built in society, for society, were typically never based on feelings, they were arranged like complicated business deals that cost fortunes to renege on. His father had married his mother because her father dominated the west coast publishing market and their nuptials were the catalyst that made Huntzberger Publishing the force it was today. It was all but clear they were now hoping for a Gilmore-Hayden-Huntzberger merger.

"So we'll see you for dinner next Friday?" Emily asked as everyone was gathering to leave.

"Regretfully no, Emily," Logan began, causing Rory's head to whip around. "Friday night is a prime date night for a young couple, I'm afraid Rory and I will be indisposed."

"Perhaps twice a month then?" she questioned, "one here and the other at your parent's?"

"That's two Friday dinners a month when there are usually only four to account for," he countered.

"One then," Emily bargained, "either here or there."

"That would be splendid," Logan replied, sounding completely gracious.

Emily smiled, nodding enthusiastically, like it had been her idea all along, before turning to Richard and starting the walk to the door, lost in trivial conversation with his parents. "You are good," Rory snuck up and whispered in his ear as they were following everyone to the foyer. "You just managed to turn 52 dinners into 12."

"Well, you have a whole year to witness most of my tricks," he leaned into her, taking her arm into his. He noticed her jump right away, causing him to only pull her in and hold on tighter. They had a year and he wanted her to feel comfortable, especially if they were going to pull this off.

"Rory, dear," Emily began as Richard handing out everyone's coats, "the car won't be here for a few minutes, we finished quite a bit earlier than I anticipated."

"No need, Emily," Logan interrupted, reaching for Rory's wrap, "I'm more than willing to take Rory back to Yale. We are headed in the same direction after all."

"What a gentleman!" Emily exclaimed, hugging her granddaughter and basically shoving her into Logan. Rory looked into his eyes and he noticed at once how dejected she eemed. Suddenly she wasn't the brazen warrior who had concocted their plan; she was an innocent woman who was at the mercy of her grandparents. He felt something inside him shift; she was as stuck as he was, maybe even moreso.

"You kids drive safe," Richard added, kissing Rory on the top of her head and shaking Logan's hand.

"Nice seeing you again, Rory," his mother chimed in.

Logan bid goodbye to his parents and escorted Rory out to his car opening the door for her as she slid in.

"Been a while since you've done that," she ribbed him for opening her door when he was finally seated next to her.

"Not since prom," he joked back, putting the car in gear and heading toward New Haven.

The silence in the car was deafening. What could he say to her? Besides the obvious, they really had nothing in common despite what their families thought.

"I like coffee," she said unexpectedly and awkwardly.

"Random," he replied. "I like coffee too."

"No, but I really like coffee," she pressed. "Like, I drink at least two pots a day and I've been petitioning Wrigley's to come up with a coffee flavored gum but no one will write back to me."

"Wow," was the only response he could manage.

"I mean, I just figured you'd want to know something about your girlfriend. After all, I know a lot about you, from, well, what other people say," she admitted, finishing the sentence much quieter than it had started.

"Do you always listen to what other people say?" he asked, suddenly wondering what all she might have heard.

"When it seems to be true," she answered matter-of-factly and he realized she was staring at him like he was a puzzle she'd yet to put together. He'd seen that look on her face once, the only time he had been in the newsroom this year, and she was completely lost in her work at the time.

"Do you want to get some?" he questioned.

"What?" she replied, sounding suddenly panicked.

"Coffee," he clarified, "would you like to get some coffee."

He couldn't help but smile as she turned a rosy shade of pink, her mind had just gone where his normally resided.

The rest of the car ride was filled with chit-chat and vague plans, and after much debate on when, how, and where, they decided that it would be useless to put off the inevitable.

Tomorrow night they would venture on their first public date. Logan convinced her that he would arrange everything. Tomorrow morning he would text her with specifics and for her not to worry about it - which worried her more.

For now they were finishing up with their coffee run.

It was only a simple coffee bar at the edge of campus but she acted like he had given her water after months in the desert. For some reason it made him smile, she drank more coffee than the entire newsroom at the Chicago Tribune.

"Thanks," she responded after filling her cup for the third time and heading off with him toward her dorm. "I need coffee after a night with my grandparents the way I'm going to presume you need alcohol after this evening with your parents."

"My night's not over. I'm supposed to be meeting friends at the pub for drinks and delinquency," he joked. "You are more than welcome to come with."

"No, I shouldn't, that's not really my thing," she finally answered as they were reaching her door.

"You sure?," he asked, "I could wait here for you to change. Not that you don't look glorious, but Chanel is a bit much for the pub." He winked.

"You know designers?" she eyed him questioningly.

"One of those tricks I promised to show you," he grinned.

"Good night, Houdini," she laughed as she entered her room pausing slightly before shutting the door.

For the first time Logan noticed how nice her laugh sounded.

There was just something about Rory, this strong little woman who apparently had a backbone of steel under that dress, completely and totally intrigued him. She was beautiful, in a way that Logan had never noticed in any other girl. Maybe he had just never looked, but being forced to stare into her eyes this entire night, knowing they were on the same side, knowing how completely unaware of her own stunning beauty she was, made her that more attractive.

"Goodnight, Ace," he chuckled before disappearing into the dark for his last night of freedom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

Rory didn't know what to wear. It didn't help that Logan's text that afternoon had included nothing but a time and the phrase 'dress'. She stood in front of her closet, flicking through her clothes, completely drawn a blank.

She grabbed a new dress, though her grandmother had insisted she buy on their last shopping excursion, Rory had been the one to pick it out. It was a simple, understated, little black dress and where her Grandmother was attempting to fill Rory's wardrobe "with appropriate clothing suitable to someone of her status", Rory had just loved the classic lines and simplicity of it. A dress that was her style, for as much as a dress could be; sleeveless, form fitting but not tight, with a slight flare at the waist and a date appropriate length, a few inches above the knee. She picked her go-to black peeped-toe heels, thankful for the fact that after a year of searching she'd found a pair that was comfortable enough for the evening events she was continually encouraged to attend. She fixed her hair, opting to keep it down in loose waves, put on minimal makeup, and grabbed a faux fur stole in lieu of a jack and headed for the common room, deciding that it would be Logan's fault if she was not dressed appropriately.

"And where are you off to?" her roommate Paris asked, eyeing her unusual attire.

Rory hesitated, imagining Paris's response to her answer. "I have a date," she finally admitted.

"A date?" Paris replied, unable to hide the shock in her voice. Rory knew why, after all she didn't date much, or well, at all as of late. After failed relationships with her two high school flings and a disaster in dating her first blue blood, Rory had mostly kept to herself. With everything the past two years had dumped onto her she just didn't have the time or energy to invest in romantic endeavors.

"Don't act so surprised," Rory focused on filling her small clutch with her handbag essentials. She was trying her best to avoid eye contact, knowing what question came next.

"With whom?" Paris asked, going from pesky roommate to snooping reporter in ten second flat, perhaps a new record for Paris Gellar.

Rory looked to her, trying to think of how to proceed without getting tangled in the tornado that would be her reaction when the doorbell rang.

Their eyes met, "Paris, no," Rory shouted as both girls went running toward the door, Rory losing.

Paris opened the door, looked at the ringer, and slammed the door in his face.

"Rory!" Paris exclaimed, "You do know who that is right?"

"I know," Rory said.

"Why on earth," Paris asked her voice dripping with disdain.

"Because, we met at a function and we talked, and he asked, and I said yes!" Rory answered, moving past Paris to open the door.

"But it's…" Paris drifted off in total disbelief.

"Logan Huntzberger," he finished for her as the door opened. He was wearing a suit that was perfectly cut to his frame. Rory tried not to stare, tried not to admit how handsome Logan really was, but at this moment in time, she was failing miserably.

"This is my roommate and good friend Paris Gellar," Rory finally spoke.

"Nice to meet you, Paris," Logan extended his hand.

"This can't be happening," was all Paris said as she threw her arms up before turning and disappearing into her room.

"It's not you," Rory tried to explain.

"Seems like it might be me," Logan joked.

"No, really. That's just Paris. Plus, Paris knows…" she drifted off, immediately regretting where that conversation was headed.

"Knows what?" Logan pressed.

"Knows I don't date much," she finally admitted.

"I don't see why not, Ace," he replied, giving her a once over, "you look fantastic."

"Ahh, more classic Huntzberger charm," she smiled, trying to play off the tightness in her stomach that released when he said he liked the way she looked.

"Only the best for my soon to be girlfriend," he whispered so that Paris wouldn't overhear. "Are you ready?"

"I am, but what exactly are we up to?" she questioned as they walked out her dorm and headed toward his car, away from any prying ears.

"Well, considering I've never been serious with a girl, this will be new to the both of us." Logan reminded her, "So first a dinner at an upscale place in Hartford…"

"Where we'll be seen by the right people," Rory finished for him, "and that will get the gossip phones ringing off the hook."

"Exactly," Logan said.

"And after?" Rory asked, picking up on the mention of a first, clearly meaning there would be a second.

"After," he answered, "since this is going to progress from date to relationship seemingly overnight, I think it's high time you are introduced to my friends."

"Oh," was all Rory could manage to say, a knot beginning to form in her stomach.

"You okay?" he asked, sensing her unease.

"I just," she stammered, "I just, I mean I knew we'd be lying to people, I just didn't make the connection, I didn't think about the having to lie to our actual friends part."

"Well, it is part of the deal we made isn't it?" he questioned.

"Yeah," Rory answered, the actual reality of their situation dawning on her.

"It'll be okay," Logan tried to reassure her as she went quiet and still, spinning that ring on her right hand like she had been doing the night before.

"I know," she nodded, lost in thought.

"What's the significance of the ring?" Logan asked, trying to get her mind off whatever it was that was making her uncomfortable.

"Huh?" she asked, more caught off guard than confused.

"The ring," he pointed, "you were wearing it last night and now tonight. I figured it must be significant."

"It's a bit much, huh?" Rory laughed, spinning the multi-stoned, diamond ring with her thumb. "It belonged to my great-grandmother Lorelei Gilmore. My mom and I always referred to her as Lorelei the First," Rory explained. "My mom always wore it, so now I wear it. It's probably the only thing I have of hers that is Emily approved."

"It's very nice," Logan said, "and what do you have of hers that isn't Emily Gilmore approved?" he asked curiously.

"A 2000 Jeep Wrangler with a stick shift and a soft top," she laughed and he chuckled, both smiling broadly.

It was Logan's turn to get quiet, his mind reviewing how drastically different his life and Rory's had been. Now this poor sheepish girl had been throw to the wolves, with Logan the big bad as far as suitors go. He couldn't help but wonder why on earth her grandparents had not only chosen him but had even gotten to the point to think of putting him on the list.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Logan pulled into the drive, bypassing the parking lot, heading toward the valet instead.

"You ready?" he asked putting the car in park.

"As I'll ever be," she smiled a large fake smile as Logan got out, heading toward her side of the car and opening the door. He extended his hand and gently glided her out.

"Just act natural," Logan whispered in her ear as he took by the arm, tipping the valet and heading toward the opening doors.

"I'm trying," Rory admitted once they were inside.

Logan took her jacket and headed off toward the coat check. She knew she was far too tense and if she didn't calm down someone would notice just how nervous she. She took a deep breath as Logan returned and they walked up to be seated.

"We have a reservation," Logan informed the hostess, his hand suddenly on her elbow and then slowly, but somehow naturally, moving to the small of her back. Rory held back a gasp but went completely still, it had been a while since someone had touched her so intimately and she felt herself melting into his palm.

Calm and natural, she reminded herself.

"The name?" the woman snipped, as if she didn't have the time of day for the two young people.

"Huntzberger," Logan replied and Rory caught his every so slight annoyance at this woman's 'can't be bothered' attitude.

Her face went white, clearly knowing the name, "Yes, of course, Mr. Huntzberger, right this way," she fiddled with the menus, almost dropping one, visibly flustered as she led them into the main dining room to a small table toward the back.

The lighting was dim, but even in the dark Rory managed to pick out several high profile couples. The Senator and Mrs. Holden were situated at a large table with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, both of which were close friends of the Huntzbergers and the Gilmores so both Logan and Rory waved. There was also Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, who owned Hamet Insurance Co., Gilmore Insurance Group's biggest competitor and at another table were Mr. and Mrs. Wellington, who owned Wellington Publishing House. Those couples alone would have been enough to cause a splash with Rory and Logan's appearance together, but there were also at least 10 other people that Rory recognized from events and gatherings, though she couldn't place their names.

Logan pulled out Rory's chair and situated himself across from her. Their table overlooked a lake, the golf course rising up behind it, and Rory smiled at just how pretty it looked with the sun setting behind it. She turned her attention to the menu and almost choked on her water at the prices. The Huntzbergers don't play for cheap, she realized, as if none of the other signs she had witnessed had ever truly gotten that message across to her.

Logan ordered a very expensive bottle of wine, which Rory's nerves were entirely grateful for, and she was going to attempt not ordering the most expensive thing on the menu, but was surprised to see everything cost the same; Prix Fixe.

"What are you thinking about getting?" Logan asked, his eyes on her and his menu closed.

"The Lobster," Rory answered, having decided that if everything cost the same she was most definitely going to get something she didn't normally get to eat. "What about you?"

"Steak, I think, unless you want to split the chateaubriand," he replied smiling and then sipping his wine, his eyes never leaving Rory.

She whispered, "That might be a _bit_ much for a first date," and smiled, laughing as he winked back at her.

The waiter arrived and they ordered, soon after getting lost in conversations about Rory's work at the paper and Logan's summer in London. Mostly, they talked of nothing of importance; occasionally throwing out facts that a 'significant other' would know of the other for when they went public and official.

Somewhere in the middle of their chat Logan's hand reached across the table to meet hers, his fingers lazily drawing patterns into her skin as he went on with his story. Though she was paying attention, part of her mind was completely focused on the fact that their hands were joined and that him touching her sent chills up her spine, until she remember it was all for show.

Dinner arrived and they managed to get through the whole dinner without anyone interrupting, though she could feel everyone else's eyes on her throughout their evening. How strange they must look, society's bad boy and society's angel, holding hands, Rory laughed, imagining this was how zoo animals felt as Logan paid the check.

"Care to enlighten me?" Logan inquired after her giggle.

"No, it's nothing," she smiled in an attempt to keep from blushing.

"Maybe later?" he asked.

"Maybe," she smiled, knowing she would never tell him.

"You ready?" he asked, tossing his napkin to the table in a signal of completion and she nodded, collecting her clutch.

He stood, coming behind Rory to pull her chair out as she rose. It only took seconds for Rory to be aware of Logan's body: He was behind her, his hand on her hip, so close her body buzzed with the sensation of his proximity.

"For the audience," he whispered, dropping his lips to her exposed shoulder and kissing it very gently. Rory's eyes closed, her knees became a consistency similar to pudding and she leaned back into him attempting to regain her composure as well as to avoid falling to the ground.

It didn't matter that Rory knew better, it didn't matter that this whole 'relationship' was as fake as fake could get, something about Logan Huntzberger made her stomach do somersaults and that was a very, very bad thing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

Logan immediately felt Rory melt into him when he kissed her neck, not something he had intended, and her reaction caused him to linger far longer than he should have.

Needless to say, he was both awkward and awestruck. What was that about?

"Let's go," he said, dropping his hands, trying to keep close but needing to remove what contact they had.

He saw her nod and he dared a look at her. She was flushed; a rosy shade of pink spread from her cheeks to her chest and Logan couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction.

They made their way through the dining room, Logan only steps behind her before they were finally at the coat room and Logan was helping Rory with her stole. She was unusually quiet, a sign Logan had quickly learned meant she was deep in thought.

"Rory, darling, is that you?" a voice suddenly chimed, as Mrs. Holden came sauntering out of the ladies room.

"Mrs. Holden!" Rory faked excitement and Logan knew that this moment would be a huge step for their façade, "how nice it is to see you again!"

"Yes, always," Mrs. Holden replied as they kissed each other on the cheek before turning her attention to Logan.

"Logan Huntzberger, as I live and breathe," she exclaimed before taking his cheek to her lips as well, "why, you are the spitting image of your grandfather when he was young!"

"At least you didn't insult me by saying my father," Logan quipped, sending a fit of giggles through Lady Holden as she playfully smacked his arm.

"You are too much," she finally managed to get out between laughter. "So what brings you both here tonight?" she immediately asked, Logan knowing full well that it would be Mrs. Holden driving their gossip train.

"You know," Logan answered, "dinner, dancing, just your typical date."

"I didn't see any dancing," Mrs. Holden pointed out with a fake pout as a grin spread across her face like she had caught them red handed.

"Ah well," Logan grabbed Rory's hand, pulling her to him, his eyes pleading with hers that she just trust him and he instantly felt her relax as her back met his front before he spun her out in a move fit for a ballroom dance floor, then, pulling her close again and dipping her back over his arm gently.

Mrs. Holden applauded, "you two kids are _divine_ ," she praised, "enjoy the rest of your evening together and tell your families I said hello!"

"You are something else, you know that Huntzberger?" Rory smiled as they watched Mrs. Holden head back to her table, "I thought for sure that we'd be here till tomorrow playing twenty questions with her.

"What can I say Ace, when I'm good, I'm very good and when I'm better, I am _excellent_ ," he laughed as they headed out the doors to the valet.

"I've been playing this game for a lot of years, you stick with me and I'll teach you everything I know." he winked.

"Ahh, like who to call first for bail money?" she joked as the car pulled up.

"Always call the lawyers first, they can call the bank," he grinned, opening Rory's door.

Soon they were off to their next destination and Logan once again noticed Rory's silence.

"Something wrong, Ace?" he asked.

"It's just a lot for one night," she shrugged, "I've spent the last few years trying to avoid a scene like that and now we're seeking them out, I'm just a little overwhelmed."

"Back there in the restaurant," he explained, once again feeling the need to put Rory at ease, "it was all for show, I didn't think…" he drifted off, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it was just unexpected," Rory admitted, "I guess I really should get used to the idea of public displays."

"Well, we can go over that when you're ready," he began, "it's just eventually we are really going to have to act like a couple, and even with your shyness, people are going to sense something is off if we aren't… affectionate."

"I know, I know," she said, "I'm just out of practice."

Logan's eye brows raised and Rory's hand flew to her mouth when she realized what she had said.

"No, no," she said, backtracking, "not like that."

"Not like that?" Logan smiled.

"I just don't do it very often," she explained and Logan could not stifle his laugh. She gasped, throwing her head back on the headrest, her eyes closing and her hands covering her face. "Not that either…" she whined. "I give up trying to explain," she finally huffed, her arms crossing her chest in defeat.

"No worry, Ace," Logan chuckled, "we'll figure it out."

...

The pub was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place and Rory was actually surprised that Logan would ever pick here for a hangout. It was a mixture of old-timey bar, complete with dark wood paneling and high stools, as well as comfy little enclaves for small groups of people. It was unusual, not the super high trendy, modern bar or club that Rory had been envisioning.

"What do you think?" Logan asked as they entered.

"It's different than I imagined," she admitted, "cozier somehow."

"You'll love it," Logan stated and Rory smiled, knowing that no matter what he'd learned so far, he still didn't know her well enough if he thought she enjoyed hanging out in bars.

"Skeptical, eh?" He asked, his smile widening. "That's okay. You'll just have to be amazed then," he said cryptically before heading off to one of the comfy little small group spaces, a mixture of small tables, couches, and chairs.

She followed him, sitting next to him on the curved sofa and he handed her a small one paged menu. She skimmed it over, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open in shock. Her arm flew, playfully knocking Logan in the chest.

"Logan!" she exclaimed, suddenly giddy with excitement. "This is a bar,"

"Yes, I know," he interrupted her, his smile even bigger, like the cat-who-ate-the-canary.

"But, it's a bar bar AND a coffee bar!" she giggled, trying to decide what to try first.

"Rule number one," he laughed, "trust me!" His arm sank down across her bare shoulders, "I told you you'd love it."

Now who was that for? Rory wondered to herself, thinking that what had happened in the restaurant was for show than this was… on purpose? Did he enjoy touching her? The way she was beginning to enjoy being touched by him? She admonished herself immediately.

"Hello, Love!" she heard a very distinctive accent exclaim, then realizing that Logan must have spotted his friends and was trying to set a vibe.

"Finn," Logan laughed, standing and extending his hand.

"Not you, mate," Finn pushed his hand away and looked directly at Rory, dropping to one knee to take her hand. "This exquisite creature who didn't realize she was sitting next to boring ole' you when I was on my way here."

"Hello to you, too," Rory smiled, slightly surprised by his intense hello.

"Easy there, Finn," Logan laughed, "you'll scare her off and I'll be left dateless."

"Good God!" Finn cried out, "tell me it isn't so, darling?"

"Well," Rory grinned up at Logan, "he did drive me here."

Finn looked up, "Ahh, he's just the chauffeur then," he frowned toward Logan, shaking his head and moving to sit on the other side of Rory, "and you thought you had a chance, silly boy."

Rory couldn't help but laugh at the over-the-top comical banter of the two as Logan returned to his seat next to her.

"Now that that is out of the way," Finn looked to Rory, "I am Finn, exotic lover, playboy extraordinaire and you are…?"

"Rory," she smiled, "Rory Gilmore-Hayden," she smiled.

"Well, Rory-Rory Gilmore-Hayden, what shall you be having to drink," he asked just before kissing her hand.

"I'm thinking of trying this Hot White Russian," she smiled, tossing her small menu on the small table.

"But I'm Australian," he cocked his head confused.

"No, no, it's a coffee drink," she explained.

"Coffee?" he asked curiously, "you do know they do sell just alcohol here, yes?" he questioned, like she was completely bizarre.

"But I like coffee," she chimed and Finn let out a theatrical sigh.

"You will never been intoxicated enough to be convinced to come home with me," Finn admitted, suddenly grasping her hand and holding it to his chest. "Rory-Rory, darling, it's been fantastic but I'm afraid our love affair is over, it truly has been grand."

"Be still my heart," Rory faked shocked, both hands flying to grasp at her heart.

"I know, dear, but it's for the best," Finn stood, "I'm leaving you in... semi-capable hands," he motioned toward Logan apologetically.

"Well," Rory moved her hand and bravely rested it slightly high on he inside Logan's thigh, a flood of adrenaline rushing through her at the intimacy.

Finn gasped, pointing his finger with the accusation, "so it IS the chauffeur!"

Rory winked and Logan shrugged, slipping his arm around her once more.

"And so it goes," Finn sighed before asking Logan, "What can I get you brother?" clearly about to head to the bar.

"Scotch. Neat," Logan replied.

"A Scot and a Russian, coming right up," Finn slurred, "I might need a map."

"No," Logan laughed, shaking his head.

"A Scotch and a Hot White Russian," Finn corrected himself before blowing Rory a kiss.

"You had your chance!" Rory called as he walked away and she and Logan were left alone again.

"He's a bit much," Logan explained, apologetically, "but he's one of my best friends and he's had my back more than I care to admit."

"That's all anyone can ask for," Rory smiled, her mind wandering to thoughts of her mother, the only person who had had Rory's back through everything; God how she missed her.

"You okay Ace?" Logan asked, catching her distress.

She forced a smile, nodding, attempting to hold back tears.

"Hey, hey," Logan pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back, "what's up?"

"My mom was my best friend," Rory whispered, knowing if she said the words too loud she'd risk losing it in public.

She was going to cry, good God, their first date wasn't even over and Logan had managed to almost make her cry.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Logan asked, worry sinking in his stomach as he held this breaking girl in his arms.

It was then that it finally dawned on Logan, that despite all her talk, all their banter, even despite the face she showed the world: Rory was fragile, Rory was special, and most of all, and this was the part he hated to admit, she deserved to be faking dating someone way better than him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Their first date had been both an achievement and perhaps a total disaster. The local gossip outlets had plastered pictures of both Rory and Logan, though not together, with headlines reading 'Dating!', 'New Hot Duo!' and 'Power Couple!', each story having an 'insider close to the couple' having confirmed the now swirling rumor that a Huntzberger-Gilmore-Hayden merger was in the making.

Mrs. Holden had been a busy bee.

Rory was almost used to the press. So much had happened the year her mother had died and so much of it had been under public scrutiny.

That year had begun with a slightly cryptic phone call, from her somewhat absent father, requesting a visit 'to discuss important matters'. She barely knew Christopher, who had been immediately banished to Europe on the news of her mother's pregnancy. Rory had no hard feelings toward her father and she had a few brief moments of his company over the years when he was finally allowed to return. Mostly, he was awkward, having zero experience of being around a child, let alone fatherhood, but he had tried on several occasions to reestablish himself in her life. It was always with the best of intentions, but either work, or women, would unintentionally turn his attention away again. So when she was bombarded at a luncheon by not only her father, but also the grandparents she had never met, she really didn't know what to think.

After the usual pleasantries and some artful beating around the bush, they had finally gotten to the point. Her grandfather, Straub, was set on retiring and leaving the company in Christopher's carefully groomed hands and as Christopher's sole heir, and the extreme possibility that she was going to be the only one, some paperwork had to filled out naming her as the secondary beneficiary of all things Hayden. Basically, if and when anything happened to her father, she was being left everything: money, property, and company - if not to run it then to at least sit on the board as majority share holder.

To say that Rory had been stunned would be an understatement. Up until now these people had wanted little to do with her and now they were leaving her their fortune.

Apologies were exchanged, plans were made, and though the Hayden's now primarily resided in London, they still had a residence in Rhode Island since they continued to conduct business on both sides of the Atlantic. Each time they had been back in the states, they had enthusiastically invited Rory for dinner and she'd always made the time to go.

Her mother had told her sometimes people just realized the importance of things at the most inopportune times and that Rory should proceed how she felt comfortable. So Rory decided to explore and expand on this new found relationship with her father and her grandparents. It was awkward at first, though soon Rory could see glimpses of the boy her mother had loved and sooner than she expected she was calling Christopher 'Dad' and getting a call at least once a week from him checking in. She'd had more than a few dinners with the Hayden's and though they were still getting accustomed to paying attention to their only grandchild, they were definitely warming up, and Rory found herself enjoying their company as well. With all these new developments, she had felt comfortable enough to stick Lorelei Leigh Gilmore-Hayden on her final paperwork with Yale, embracing who she was always meant to be.

The problem was, where the name Gilmore was mainly known in the wealthy circles of New England, the name Hayden came with a global reputation. Soon the papers were exploding with stories about her family: her mother, her father, and her. Some of it wasn't nice, half of it was totally untrue, but mostly it seemed like everyone suddenly wanted something from her. She suddenly felt like she was under a microscope. She wanted to run away, escape back into the small life her mother had created for her in Stars Hallow before anyone knew her name, but her mother made it clear that the cat was out of the bag and that Gilmore Girls do not back down. She had been tapped as the society's golden girl; a mixture of beauty, brains and, most importantly, a sizable fortune and she had to make the best of it. Eventually Rory had learned to ignore the bulk of it and to conduct herself in public very, very carefully.

She had gotten through her first year at Yale unscathed and was heading toward her dream of writing before disaster stuck. Her mother was ill, gravely ill, and she had somehow managed to keep it a secret from Rory while she had been away at school, not wanting to ruin her first year of college or worry her daughter. She'd skillfully distanced herself with excuses of running the Inn and Rory had believe it all; that her mother was busy achieving her dream of owning the Dragonfly while Rory was achieving hers at Yale. She was wrong.

Rory spent the first months of summer vacation caring for her failing mother, refusing to have nurses in the house for what Rory was capable of doing herself until the need for hospice was inevitable. They spent most of the days in bed, watching TV, laughing and talking like they had done since before Rory could remember, her mother wasting away day-by-day. The treatments had failed, they had been a long shot anyway when cancer is as advanced as it was when they had found it. Rory tried to keep her spirits up, only truly breaking down when she was alone. Mainly, she poured her effort into making her mother comfortable and soaking in every second of the little time they had left together. She wrote daily on what they did, what funny things were said, and what little pieces of off-the-wall advice her mother was famous for giving her.

Lorelei Victoria Gilmore, Lorelei the Second, died on a rainy Tuesday in July and was laid to rest on a beautiful, blue-skied Friday. Her memorial was attended by hundreds and everyone Rory knew had gone to support her, and yet, she had never felt so desperately alone.

She'd been hounded by the reporters the second her mother had passed away, everyone looking to get a look at her in her deepest despair and Rory had spent weeks locked up avoiding the public. Part of her world had just crumbled into oblivion and all anyone wanted was a photo opportunity.

"Now this," she sighed to herself, examining the picture of Logan that was next to hers, thinking back to the previous night.

Logan had changed drastically after Rory's almost public breakdown: one minute he'd been holding her and the next he was distant and obviously tense. Upset Rory apparently freaked him out and she really couldn't blame him. He'd signed up for a fun night, even taking great lengths to insure Rory's good time, taking her to place he honestly thought she'd enjoy - and mostly she had. Despite her brief distress, she had toughed the night out with Logan, eventually meeting his other friends Colin and Robert, who were as equally as intense and comical as Finn had been.

There were also more than a handful of random girls flocking in and out. Though obviously not invited and though Rory knew it wasn't an issue, for that night at leas, she couldn't help but watch how they had tried so hard to interact with Logan and how skilfully Logan had steered them off, leaving himself out of the mix entirely. He was, as he seemed to have planned, completely focused on Rory.

The night had finally ended, with some definite ground work established, and Rory and Logan had left hand in hand, with more than a few whispers behind them. The car ride though had been unusually quiet. Logan was clearly not his usual clever, snarky self; the intensity of the night seeming to finally wear on him, leaving him lost in thought before he had finally dropped her off at her dorm with a quick 'Goodnight', since no one was around.

She'd texted him that morning about the tabloids, wondering if he'd seen it, and so far she hadn't heard back. It was odd, the feeling in her stomach that was making her worry about Logan, like she didn't have the insurance of legal agreements on her side. He'd call, she knew it, but she was finding herself hoping that he actually wanted to talk to her rather than it being part of their arranged obligations.

She was knee deep in Logan thoughts when her phone rang out its familiar tune and she reach for it quickly.

"Ace," Logan's voice flooded her ears, "get on your computer."

"Right now?" she asked, searching her bedroom for her laptop.

"Yes, please," he laughed.

"What am I doing on here?" Rory asked, knowing full well that Logan was up to something, he was always up to something.

"Logging into Facebook," he replied and Rory punched in the address, knowing immediately what was coming.

It wasn't hard to miss the 'relationship confirmation' request as she logged in and her mouse hovered over the 'Confirm Relationship with Logan Huntzberger' button.

"People are going to be all over this, Logan," Rory reminded him, hesitation obvious in her voice.

"I know." He sounded so sure, so confident, and Rory was beginning to really like that about him. When she paused, he pushed forward and when she doubted, he did it anyway, like a well choreographed dance.

"You can still get out of this, Ace," he reminded her. "I know we signed papers, but honestly, I'm sure you could make them understand if you don't want to do this, you certainly deserve better, and don't worry about me... seriously. I appreciate us teaming up on this, but I've talked my way out of things before, I'm sure they could come up with some other deal, some other daughter."

She fixated on his words. He was giving her an out, a genuine out, and she appreciated his offer of sacrifice. She considered it, knowing she could mostly likely convince her grandparents that Logan wasn't the kind of guy for her and that they would be understanding and handle any repercussions of her backing out, but - to what end? It would be more dinners with more eligible men. It would be constant boundary destroying run-ins with her grandparents week after week. It would be the definite possibility of being in the same position she'd been put in with Logan, but with someone who truly believe that a marriage based on mutual interest is better than one built on love. It would be Logan, dining and dancing and coffeeing with some other girl... and she hated how that felt. It was true that she deserved better than this, but so did he.

She closed her eyes, and clicked the mouse.

"Ace?" he finally inquired of her silence.

"Done," she replied, "what's next?"

"Brace ourselves for the immediate fall out," he answered honestly.

They were officially official.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

It was less than 4 hours after Logan and Rory had confirmed their relationship to the public world and Logan officially had no less than 300 text messages, most from numbers that had never even been saved in his phone, telling him how wonderful it was or, how awful he was, with not much in between.

Even his father had called to offer him a boon of congratulations, obviously impressed with the ground work Logan had laid the evening before that had everyone chattering about the romance in the making. The jury was still out on that commendation, unsure if applause from the Dark Lord was ever a good thing, but for the moment, he seemed to be off the hook. Logan was torn, a mental struggle between wanting to save his own ass and, truth be told, wanting to shield Rory.

Rory was not made for this world, that much he could see, and it wasn't that she didn't belong. Even with the bravest of intentions, the night before had revealed just how delicate Rory's emotional state was. After breaking down at the mere mention of her mother, Logan couldn't help but wonder what exactly had transpired after Lorelei's death that allowed Rory to be shanghaied by her grandparents. Grandparents who seemed more concerned with outward appearances than her actual emotional state. That alone would be rough on anyone, let alone a grieving daughter. Despite it all happening years ago and the calm, proud, strength Rory showed the world, Logan knew that underneath it all, appearances could be deceiving.

Even so, he had tried to give Rory an out, offering her a real opportunity to call the whole thing off. Perhaps he should have pushed more, persuaded more, and he was struck with the sudden realization that deep down, he hadn't really wanted her to take him up on it. He immediately felt a twinge of selfishness and guilt.

Here was a girl that, after being surrounded and pressured into something that no one would willingly sign up for, had silently and secretly rebelled. She'd formulated a plan of resistance before Logan had even recovered from the shock of it all. Now that, _that_ was the type of attitude that Logan could appreciate and a person he'd want by his side to help him tame his reputation, even falsely. Particularly, if it meant working one over on his parents.

Still, this was going to be a stretch, especially for her.

Logan had basically his whole life to prepare him for this endeavor. A nice long track record of going to extreme lengths to shirk every familial responsibility that was ever asked of him. He'd been listening to the dynastic plan for his life for as long as he could remember and he had defied it every step of the way. Beginning with the revolving door of boarding schools he'd been sent to and, consequently, kicked out of. Then, when he demanded to take a year off to sail around the world, managing to sink a yacht in the process. Now, culminating in his final escape to Yale and the relative safe distance it currently provided him from all things Huntzberger. Until now. Finishing up at Yale was the end, before everything he'd worked so hard against was finally set into motion, ready or not.

But Rory? This shouldn't be happening to her. She was an innocent victim, in a ridiculous game, all based on the combination of a few last names.

He doubted anyone had ever asked her what she needed, hell, everything he basically knew of her: hopes, dreams, ambitions - was all just a replay of everything that Emily Gilmore had ever spewed his way. Logan couldn't help but wonder what exactly Rory Gilmore-Hayden wanted and found himself increasing curious to find out.

There was a scuffle at his door, followed by some thuds and cursing. Recognizing the diatribe from the hallway, Logan rolled his eyes and went to open the door.

There stood Finn, Colin, and Robert, dressed completely in black, with bowler hats, and carrying a makeshift wooden casket filled with what looked to be lots and lots of whiskey.

Finn slurred first, "We," his arm flailed outward to encompass the group, "have heard you have taken yourself off the market."

"We have come for answers!" demanded Colin, as they marched past him and into the apartment.

"And to offer you our thanks," Robert suggested, "for all the ladies will be forced in our general direction."

The three of them bowed, before unloading the bottles onto the bar, Finn opening one immediately, and Colin lining up shot glass after shot glass.

"Gentleman," Logan laughed, "to what do I owe the honor?"

"Girlfriend," Colin said, puzzled, throwing back a shot.

"Yes," Logan confirmed.

"GirlfriEND," Finn repeated, stressing a different part of the word, tipping his shot back as well.

"Yes," Logan nodded again.

"GIRLfriend," Robert duplicated once more, looking altogether bewildered, his face scrunching as he swallowed.

"Yes!" Logan practically shouted, his head falling against his hand, shaking it ever so slightly as Finn refilled the shot glasses.

"To a girl that is more than a friend," Colin bellowed, raising his glass.

"To a friend that is more than a girl!" quipped Finn, holding his glass in the air.

"More than a girl?" questioned Robert, perplexed, stalling on lifting his glass completely.

"A siren!" shouted Colin!

"A woman," Finn corrected him, in slight reverence, a moment of silence briefly following.

"A smart woman," Robert nodded quietly, holding his glass to the center.

"A rich woman," Colin winked, clinking his glass to Roberts.

"and a beautiful woman," Finn sighed, dreamy eyed, clattering his glass against the other two, before all three took the shot together.

"And surely one you do not deserve!" remarked Colin.

Logan got up, making his way to the couch, "You three are impossible!"

"Impossible, mate?" Finn questioned, pointing his finger at him and yelling. "You, Logan Huntzberger, are at least two shots behind!"

The trio banged their glasses against the counter in quick repetition, creating a noise that sounded a lot like thunder, before refilling their shot glasses yet again.

Finn jumped up onto the coffee table, "'It is better to pass boldly into that other world, _in full passion and glory_ , than to fade and wither dismally with age...'" he declared, as dramatically as possible, raising his glass.

"That is deep," Colin nodded.

"Very deep," Robert agreed, the three taking yet again another shot.

"And misquoted," Logan pointed out, laughing.

Sudden knocking at the door started, Robert sauntering over to answer it, and a steady stream of people began filing in one by one, all dressed in black.

"What is all this?" Logan asked, as Colin and Finn hoisted him up by the arms, maneuvering him over to stand by the coffin they'd propped up against the far wall. From there, they shrugged an oversized, formal black jacket on him, slipped two gold coins in his breast pocket, and attached a boutonniere to his lapel. Then, they handed him a triple shot whiskey.

"Your wake!" Robert shouted over a small group of girls softly sobbing in the corner.

"Mourners!" Colin clamored to get everyone's attention, "line up here to pay your respects to the recently departed!"

"Glasses up!" Colin instructed, "To our brother, Logan!"

"May God be with him," Finn added sarcastically.

"To Logan!" the group cheered, everyone toasting a shot of whiskey in his honor, and everyone, including Logan, drinking it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

She wandered around the common area of the suite, looking through the piles of books and folders filled with newspaper research, unable to find her philosophy textbook. Her and Paris's things just blended into a giant ball of room suffocating clutter; filled with books, novels, and notepads.

She hadn't quite planned to live in the dorms through her senior year, but after the mess following her mother's death, the decision to keep her mother's house in Stars Hallow, and briefly entertaining the idea of not returning to Yale at all that following fall, living on campus and all the perks that came with it, just sort of felt like the right thing at the time.

She'd spent the better part of a month after her mother's death, hunkered down with her mother's things, unable to process the idea of what to do next. She turned down any offer of help from Emily Gilmore, afraid that it would only result in things being thrown away or auctioned off, and Rory just could not stomach the idea of such a quick erase of her mother's memory. She had asked for her Dad's guidance, which resulted in a no-questions-asked-never-to-be-repaid check, to help her pay off the mortgage and a little extra to put into an account to help run the inn. She had considered just giving the Dragonfly to Sookie, but after mentioning it, realized that Sookie didn't really have the extra funds to manage it alone. In the end, she became a silent partner, and thankfully, had one more thing of her mothers to hold onto.

Even so, crossing two items off her to-do list didn't help her feel less overwhelmed. Just as she had resigned to take a year off of school to help get things in order, her friend Lane, estranged with her family after what seemed like a reckless lifestyle choice when she joined a band, had desperately asked if she could move in with Rory. She couldn't pay much in rent, she said, but she would be willing to pitch in with all the chores and would help take care of the house.

Moved by the sincere offer of help, Rory had come up with a slightly different proposition. Unable to continue immersing herself in the emotional darkness that had begun to settle around her, she offered Lane the house rent free; if only she promised to take good care of it and to store anything she didn't want of Lorelei's in the garage for the time being.

It hadn't been what Lane expected, and she didn't want to take advantage, but Rory explained that it really was a win-win situation that would give Lane a place to live and Rory a way back to Yale without having to deal with everything at once. Yale was just what Rory needed. Classes to take, things to learn, a newspaper to work on - a combination of a hundred different things to distract Rory from the one thing she knew would unravel her completely if she continued to focus on it. In the end, living at Yale kept Rory in the center of her now universe: surrounded by learning and close to the library, the Daily News, and the coffee cart.

"We have to talk," Paris's voice was suddenly behind her, startling her practically out of her skin, a pile of books slamming onto the coffee table as she dropped them.

"Paris!" Rory practically shouted, "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"What's going on with you, Rory?" Paris crossed her arms against her chest and plastered her I-Totally-Mean-Business face on, putting herself in front of the door and Rory's way out.

"Nothing, I have to get to class," she answered defensively, bypassing the accusatory tone in Paris's voice that had nothing to do with Rory almost being late to class and everything to do with certain gossip about Rory's love life.

"I know you're with him!" Paris yelled. "Apparently it's all over the Facebook, which means even the government knows, so you can announce it to all your 'friends' on Facebook and the FBI, but you haven't said a word to your roommate."

"If by him, you mean Logan..." Rory replied, exasperated, navigating past the human blockade. "Paris, I can't do this now, I'm going to be late!"

"Logan Huntzberger!" Paris screeched, like his last name was an expletive, following her as she moved past her and out the door.

She turned the corner quickly, attempting to outrun Paris, only to find Logan leaning against the wall, several yards ahead, with two cups of coffee in hand.

Rory stopped short and Paris caught up to her.

She hadn't expected to see him there.

"Hello, Logan," Paris said sarcastically.

"Hello, Paris," Logan replied, flashing his million dollar smile.

"Goodbye, Logan," Paris rolled her eyes, turning to head back toward their dorm.

"Goodbye, Paris," Logan called after her, imitating her tone as she rounded the corner, finishing with a wink in Rory's direction.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have the friendliest roommate in the world?" Logan made his way over to her, closing the distance between them, and handing her the extra cup in his hands.

"Nope, never," she laughed.

"I can't see why not," he shook his head in mock disbelief, turning to walk with her.

"What on earth are you doing up this early? And bringing me coffee? And why are you wearing a boutonniere?" she inquired in gunshot repetition, coming up with new questions before she gave him time to answer the previous ones.

"Haven't been to bed it. Was originally going to drink them both, but I figured this was the more chivalrous thing to do. I'm returning from a wake," he fired back in smooth succession, matching her verbal pace completely.

"A wake!" Rory exclaimed, stopping in her tracks, a slight frown falling across her face. "Who died?" she asked, obviously concerned.

"No one," he admitted, "I was the corpse." Rory's brow furrowed with bewilderment as he went on to explain. "The guys, on hearing of the newly announced ball-in-chain, that would be you," he pointed at her, "decided that only decent thing to do would be to throw me a wake."

"A wake?" she repeated, a little slack jawed.

"A wake," he nodded. "I just thought I'd stop by the coffee cart and get you a cup," he explained, catching the suspicion in her eyes. "I know you run on caffeine and I just thought it might earn me... boyfriend points."

"Boyfriend points?" she inquired curiously, finally managing to take a sip of her coffee, making a note that he'd paid attention to her when she told him nights ago how she took it.

He closed the distance between them, bringing his voice to an almost whisper. "I was thinking, this relationship is being built on outward appearances and to maintain them, we need to develop a system to keep track, to make sure we're doing our due diligence," he reasoned.

"With points?" she responded, still confused.

"That's the beauty of it, Ace!" he said, "I figure bringing you morning coffee has to be two points, a drink at the pub - like five? Dinner out at least 10, considering we are busy college students," he rattled on, "Oh! 15, if it's like a charity event or something we get drug to" he grinned. "I figure by the end of the week we should work to always have about 20 points. Then it looks like we're doing the right mix of things and no one can accuse us of spending too much or too little time together."

Rory's head tilted as she muddled it in her head. "Points," she finally responded, nodding slowly and staring at her coffee cup.

"Think about it. It's a quantifiable goal to help us get started, Ace," he rationalized.

She turned to him, chuckling, "that's actually pretty brilliant, Huntzberger."

"What can I say, I am more than just a pretty face," he grinned.

She smiled, leaning closer to whisper, "How drunk were you when you thought of it?"

"An eleven out of ten, Ace, but that's not the point," he admitted and they both laughed as they fell into step again.

...

...


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

They stopped a few feet from Rory's classroom door, finding a small recess in the wall to tuck into, finishing up a quick conversation on the validity of the rumor that Professor Simmons hair was neither real, nor fake, but the result of a very bad hair transplant. Rory laughed and finished her coffee before tossing the cup in the trash can.

"Guess I needed that," she smiled.

"Yeah, but I have no idea how you're going to make it through his two hour lecture," Logan closed his eyes and pretended to snore loudly.

She playfully smacked his arm, shushing him before rolling her eyes, "Well, some of us actually went to bed last night, Huntzberger."

"Righto," he acknowledged, "and on that note, I'm going to let you go enjoy your lecture, Ace. Somehow, I know you will."

"Always do," she patted her book and notepad.

"Bad news though," he frowned. "My parent's have a thing Friday night, big to-do, fancy dress. I was originally going to blow it off and take the verbal beating, but it seems I now have no out."

"And because you have no out..." Rory pieced together.

"You now also have no out," Logan grinned.

Rory frowned, "Misery loves company."

"At least we can be miserable together," he countered.

"And here I thought you had skillfully relieved us of Friday night dinner plans," she teased.

He shook his head, "Dinners, yes. Events, not so much."

Rory laughed, nodding her head. She, more than anyone, understood what he meant.

Logan glanced around, more than a few people were lingering uncomfortably in the corridor where they waited, too many eyes glancing in their direction for it to be regular foot traffic. No, this was a gossip confirming gawk-fest. A billion thoughts were suddenly spinning through his head, none of them even remotely helpful. He'd been so preoccupied with trying to establish a routine with Rory, to have a path of action to follow, rather than the aimless unknown he'd been struggling with since this whole thing had begun, he hadn't thought it through. Now there were too many eyes on them for him to slip away unnoticed.

He shifted uneasily, realizing that there was going to be absolutely no way around this.

"Ugh," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the weight of everything and alcohol finally bringing on the hangover headache he'd forgotten to expect.

"What?" she asked, sensing something was off.

He started at the floor, lowering his voice. "What's rule number one?"

"One?" she repeated, her head tilted in her confusion.

He looked up at her, wearing that same desperate look she'd seen on him before, the same way the corner of his mouth turned downward but his eyes wide, almost hopeful, and she instantly knew.

"Trust," she said, barely at a whisper.

He wasted no time, giving her no chance to stop him.

He stepped forward, eliminating the space between them, his hand slipping to the small of her back, careful not to spill his coffee all over her shirt. The other, grazing her cheek to rest behind her neck, pulling her to him. His mouth found her's instantly, first, open and tense with shock, then, softening slightly as he pulled her even closer. Any sane thought was lost, planned course of action aborted, he was suddenly consumed in everything Rory. Her lips were soft, her hair silky against his fingers as they hovered along the nape of her neck, and she smelled like lavender mixed with fresh laundry. It was too much, overwhelming even, but just as he mustered the forethought to pull himself away, suddenly, she was leaning into him, kissing him back, and he was lost again. He took it as permission, deepening the kiss, turning her gently into the tiny alcove they had been waiting in, and he'd swear he heard a slight moan escape from her lips.

A door slamming roused them both, giving Logan the chance to finally step back, putting much needed space between them.

He dared a look at her. Her eyes were glazed over, lost in the haze of what just happened.

He slipped his near full cup of coffee into her hand, whispering in her ear, "I think you're going to need this more than I will, don't over think it."

He kissed her cheek and turned to walk away, leaving them both with the exact same thought.

What the hell just happened?


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

No notes. She dropped her books onto her bed, ignoring their bounce and lopsided landing, kicking her shoes off immediately. How was it possible that during an entire two hour lecture she'd managed to take no notes? Zero notes, less than zero notes, she hadn't even dated the top of her paper. How could she take notes when she couldn't even remember the date! And on a Monday! What a way to shape the week. She groaned, the palms of her hands rubbing her eyes. She wasn't even sure if she'd picked up her pen. Did she even have a pen? Her nose scrunched up as she found a place for her rage. Huntzberger.

Of all the out of the blue, left field, catching a girl off guard, things a guy could do, he'd managed to do it! The nerve! She berated him in her head momentarily before catching her thoughts wandering, replacing that fury with what it truly was, surprise and...

She lost her train of thought.

That kiss…

She flopped down next to her books, head resting back on her pillow to stare at the ceiling, replaying it in her head again and again. It had all happened so fast: one minute, nothing, the next, wowza. She'd swear she'd felt the electricity, from her toes, up to her brain, and all the places in between, and she struggled to remember a time she had had a kiss felt so passionate.

She couldn't help but wonder what on earth Logan had been thinking, or was thinking for that matter. Passionate kisses in dark alleys was probably on his resume under "key skills", whereas Rory's experience could hardly fill up a post-it note.

There had been Dean, her high school boyfriend, then Jess, the proverbial new guy in town who broke her heart, and then Dean again, in a seriously misguided fling that she happened to had conducted while he was still married. Not her best moment to say the least. It didn't end well. Soon after she'd realized her mother's illness, and though he had tried to be there for her, Rory mentally couldn't handle the dynamic. It fizzled out as one misguided night, and given everything that had happened in Rory's life afterward, felt like a very, very, long time ago.

So she had hit the pause button on anything romantic after her mother died, not being able to handle the emotional intimacy it might require, up until just this past summer. When, after some arm twisting from Emily, had led her to the worst date she'd ever had to experience. It had begun with some awkward and borderline inappropriate flirting and ended with him drinking way too much, making suggestions to both Rory and their waitress, and her sending him home in a cab, alone. Even so, it was barely ranked as a footnote in the story of her love life, but had caused her to swear off dating until after college, _at least._

Now there was Logan; the handsome, charming, upper-class, bad boy, who'd never had a girlfriend and here she was, his polar opposite and pretending to be the first. What a mess.

She'd been so sure she could play along with this ruse, that it would be mostly talk and little action, that she hadn't really had time to rehearse all the details that would have to take place to pull it off. Rory had spent the past few days under more stress than she had ever anticipated, all from the simple act of trying to keep up the charade.

She had hoped that as their year went on it would become easier, but this morning. This morning had twisted her mind up in a mess she hadn't even remotely thought to see coming. Her fingertips touched her lips, recalling how Logan's lips had felt against hers, and how he'd been so, skilled.

She frowned, snapping back to reality. Evasive maneuvers required.

She picked up her cell phone and started texting.

 _'Coffee, 2 points. Big, must attend event on Friday, 15 points._  
 _17 points for week one is a good start._  
 _Let me know what time you'll pick me up on Friday.'_

Before she could hit send, her phone started ringing, startling her, and then immediate dread set in before she had the chance to read the caller-ID, calming as she did, but only slightly.

DAD

Not Logan, but still, she gulped. He knew she didn't have class right now, she'd sent him her schedule when the semester started weeks ago, and he'd done what he'd done for the past few years and schedule time on his busy calendar to call her and check in. Maybe this was that?

She hit the green accept icon and chirped happily, "Hey, Dad!"

"Boyfriend?" he immediately questioned.

"About that," Rory grimaced. Leave it to her well connected, super cool, hip, and worldly father to have figured it out that quickly.

"I have a Google alert set," he stated and Rory almost rolled her eyes before smiling. Of course he did.

Still, she remained awkwardly silent. She didn't know what to say. She had never had the opportunity to do the father-daughter conversations about dating thing with him. This was brand new territory and she was suddenly so glad he'd missed her teenage romance years.

"Rory?" he asked, probably thinking the line had gone dead.

"I'm still here," she replied rather sheepishly.

"Well, I look forward to seeing you and getting a proper introduction this Friday night at the Huntzberger Gala," he stated so nonchalantly that Rory wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

"Friday?" she questioned.

"Why of course! I cannot wait to see you, and to hear about how things are going at Yale, and meeting this new boyfriend!" he continued, "clearly, we have a lot to catch up on."

"Friday." She said again, more as a confirmation to herself that her father would be meeting Logan sooner versus the later she had never really planned for.

"Have to run into a meeting, can't wait to see you both!" he said before the line went dead.

Rory kept the phone to her ear for longer than she should of before opening her unsent message to Logan.

"Friday," she stated out loud one more time so that it would sink in as she backspaced through most of what she'd planned to send before.

 _'Coffee, 2 points. Big, must attend event on Friday, 15 points._  
 _MY FATHER WILL BE THERE AND IS LOOKING TO MEET YOU. WE NEED A STRATEGY, ASAP.'_

She sent it before she could over think it. She wanted some space from him after this morning's encounter, she needed it, but here she was, looking to throw herself into the path of what she was beginning to call him in her head. Hurricane Huntzberger.

Her phone dinged almost immediately with his response.

 _'Holy caps lock, Batman. Want to grab a drink later and game plan?'_

"NO!" she screamed out loud while typing.

 _'Yes.'_


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

"My Dad," she said tersely, repeated actually, for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes," he said slowly, "your Dad", treading carefully to a very distressed Rory, who was presently pacing in front of him, "the magnitude of this game changer isn't lost on me, Ace."

She was already in a frenzy by the time he'd gotten there. He'd barely finished knocking on her suite door before she rushed him inside, pushing him on the couch before she began her spiral: muttering, arms clenched across her chest, and pacing. He figured she'd done at least a mile on that eight feet of carpet by now.

Her rage suddenly turned.

"You and your stupid, harebrained, ridiculous ideas!" she practically shouted at him, pausing her work on wearing down that carpet.

"Actually, I think this was your…" he trailed off, catching her eyes widen toward him with her teeth clenched, and realized it was best not to mention that at the moment.

The pacing continued.

He had to admit, he hadn't figured on Rory's dad entering the equation this soon. Truth be told, he hadn't really thought about him finding out at all. It was one thing to lie to the parents, or grandparents, who put them in this impossible scenario, but to lie to a caring father seemed, low, even from his standards.

"So? What do I say?" she questioned. "What do we say? I should have thought about this. We should have thought about this!"

His brow furrowed. For all the wild planning he'd done in his youth to try and secure his freedom, he had to admit his was suddenly very disappointed in himself. He should have been working a clear plan from the get-go. Yet, he hadn't. He'd been too surprised, too preoccupied with the ridiculous nature of their introduction. Too alarmed at her intelligence, her beauty, her… heart.

"We should start over, change our minds. Go back and just tell them it's a bad idea, that it will never work. We are just too different, and we accept the consequences. You could be poor! I could even get you an allowance!" she suggested wildly. "I mean, I'll get an inheritance one day! We could set you up with a little apartment somewhere. Maybe you could even work for a rival newspaper! That would show your father. I can see the headlines now! 'Huntzberger Jr. sets up shop with Barkowitz Publishing!'. It'll be huge!" her eyes lit up, practically unhinged.

She turned, finally pausing to face him.

"Well? Do you need a once bedroom or two?" she exclaimed.

"Rory," he stood, putting his hands on her shoulders, "I really just need to you take a breath."

She seemed unable and continued.

"I don't think I can afford a three-bedroom right now without having to explain why to the powers that make sure the checks clear," her voice cracking at the end a little as her head fell, eyes to the floor.

"We knew what this could entail, Ace," he said hopefully, his fingers pulling her chin up, "I just think we need to plan it out."

"What plan?" she questioned, still defeated.

"An outline, if you will. We need a script to follow." He was suddenly jazzed, like that was the piece that they'd been missing. "We've been doing this by the seat of our pants and we need an actual plan of attack, not just some vague idea that we've joined forces!"

She tilted her head, still lost.

"We knew we were going to have to fake a relationship, this is just another step in that. We buy our time, set everything up, it gets us off the hook for a year, maybe more. We do this right and people stop asking questions. They just assume, we let them, by the time they think to start asking again we'll be done. You'll be finished with Harvard and I'll be…" he trails of, the vision of him in his father's suit, at his father's desk, doing his father's job suddenly fogs his vision.

"I'll be doing wherever their plan for me leads me, I guess."

"What if he's in on it?" she frowns, worried.

"Rory," Logan focuses on her again, eyebrows raised, almost chuckling. "No father in his right mind would choose ME as a romantic attachment for his daughter, real or fake. This was the mastermind of Gilmore- Huntzberger factions."

She nodded, seeing his point.

"Plus, your father is just recently back in your life, he wouldn't risk that for the promise of… some future monetary value that might be obtained by our…" he trailed off at the thought.

"Ready for that drink?" Rory offered, smirking.

"Desperately," he chuckled.

She grabbed her jacket and bag, motioning toward the door.

"We really should have planning sessions at your place, you have better alcohol available," she laughed.

He slung his arm around her shoulder as they made their way to his car, "you're really starting to pick up on all the best possible lessons I could teach you, Ace"

"Master and Commander," she suddenly exclaimed, smiling brightly.

"The movie?" he questioned, clearly confused.

"No," she smiled, "that's what I should call you."


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

They'd been in contact all week, meeting up to grab dinner every night and coffee most mornings. He had even hung out while Rory was studying just so his friends could see him head into her suite and stay for several hours, letting them assume anything and everything that might help solidify their lie.

They'd taking turns asking and answering questions about each other: likes and dislikes, past relationships (on Rory's part at least), and overall (crazy) family dynamics. She started the task as she would any test she needed to prepare for, with pad and pen in hand, but by Wednesday she realized she didn't need to write any of it down, she remembered every answer. It wasn't lost on her. She knew viewing Logan from an intimate perspective was dangerous, still, his personality was almost infectious, his patented mischievous playboy talk made her laugh, his intelligence made her think, but it was the quiet moments in between that really made Rory pay attention.

The way he smiled when he talked of his sister Honor, how hard he laughed when he spoke of his crazy friends, and how dejected he looked when he spoke of his future under his father's thumb. It was in the rawness that sometimes overwhelmed their conversations that set the uneasy feeling in her stomach and as much as she warned herself, she couldn't help it. There was something about THAT Logan that she…

She shook the thought off immediately as her phone chimed in his patented ringtone.

 _'We could run away?'_

She laughed as she responded.

 _'Our families would hunt us down.'_

 _'Party-pooper. See you soon.'_

She finished her make-up and checked everything in the mirror, nodding to herself. It was neutral but obviously not an everyday look for her, plus, it wouldn't detract from the gorgeousness of her dress. It was gold, fitted and sleek, not overly revealing, and adorned with beading and crystals. It reminded her of an up-to-date flapper dress, though it was floor length and lacked fringe. She frowned in disappointment and then laughed at herself. She kept her jewelry simple and rubbed her fingers over her Lorelei ring, pushing the sadness down immediately. God how she missed her.

There was a knock at the door just as she was slinging her heels on and she yelled.

"Be right there!"

She slipped a lipstick and her phone in her clutch, grabbed her stole, and headed for the door.

Logan stood with a million dollar smile and a small corsage.

Rory laughed, "are we going to prom?"

"I thought you'd get a kick out of it," he joked, "but no one else will approve."

"Well, I appreciate it all the same," she smiled, "let me get it in water before we go."

She headed off to the kitchen and returned just few seconds later.

"One more thing," he started, pulling a small box from his jacket pocket.

Rory gasped, hands clasped to her chest, unable to help herself.

"Oh no! No. I'm not getting down on one knee," he practically shouted, laughing at her reaction.

"Thank god," her breathed, hands relaxing.

"But, appearances," he said, opening the box to reveal a pair of diamond, drop earrings, obviously an heirloom.

"Logan…" she trailed off as he unboxed them.

"These belonged to my grandmother, obviously when things end I'll need them back, but I figured they'd send the right message tonight," he dropped them in her hand.

"They are absolutely stunning," she held them tight, removing the studs she'd opted to wear originally. They matched her dress exquisitely and she tilted her head toward him, showing them off.

"Absolutely breathtaking," he sighed, and Rory wondered if he meant the earrings or her, but he continued talking quickly. "My grandmother used to wear them to this exact gala every year, so some people will definitely notice."

"They are lovely, and thank you for always being one step ahead and planting the evidence," she smiled, heading toward the door.

"Jimmy Choo?" he questioned, glancing at her shoes.

"God you're good," she laughed as they made their way to the town car.

Other than the meet and greet with her father, Rory wasn't nervous. Not in the way she had been with him before this past week. Their time together had given her an overall sense of comfort and ease with him. He wasn't difficult to be around, he was easy to talk to, and she understood what people saw in him. Not the part of Logan Huntzberger he played, but the man himself. His sister was loving and caring because he was, his friends were steadfast and loyal because he showed them the same, and she herself was suddenly comfortable and unafraid, because he gave her every reason to be. Trust him. That's what he asked of her and, so far, he'd lived up to the request.

The car finally pulled up to a beautiful mansion, red carpet laid out, with even some press taking photos of arriving guests.

"You ready, Ace?" he smiled as a valet opened the door.

"As I'll ever be," she feigned a smile and he offered her his hand.

She gripped it and he squeezed, settling arm and arm as they made their way to the door.

"Logan, Rory, a picture if you please!" a photographer shouted, and his hand found her waist as they tucked together comfortably and smiled.

"We can do this," he whispered in her ear as they made their way inside, "together."

"Rory!" a voice shouted from up ahead and she smiled brightly at her grandparents.

Logan shook Richard Gilmore's hand as Rory kissed cheeks with her grandmother.

"You look so, so lovely, dear," Emily smiled, her smile brightening even more when she took notice of the earrings.

"Doesn't she?" Logan met Rory's eyes, kissing her temple.

"We are probably seated together," Emily went on as Richard spoke with the hostess stand, giving their names and getting their seating cards.

"Actually," Logan chimed in, "I think we're seated with some friends of ours, but we'll be sure to stop by as the evening goes on."

"Oh," her grandmother frowned as Richard started leading her toward their table, "well we look forward to seeing you both on the dance floor!"

"How on EARTH did you manage to not be seated at the same table," Rory said, absolute astonishment in her voice.

Logan just winked as they got their place settings, heading over toward a table, a distracted Colin and what appeared to be a sleeping Finn, already seated.

"Didn't you both bring dates?" Logan questioned as he pulled out Rory's chair.

"They're in the restroom," Colin rolled his eyes, "did you know it's physically impossible for women to go to the restroom alone?"

"Maybe if you hadn't made your date cry on the way here, she wouldn't have needed to touch up her makeup," Finn spoke, finally sitting up.

"And maybe if you hadn't removed all of yours's lipstick," Colin jabbed in return.

"Fellas!" Logan chuckled.

"Yes, dear brother, after all, we are in the presence of a lady," Finn smiled, waggling his eyebrows.

"That shade of lipstick doesn't look so bad on you," Rory motioned to Finn's colored smeared mouth, teasing him.

"Rory, Darling! You know I'm just biding my time until you ditch Daddy Bored-bucks," he quipped back as he pulled out his handkerchief and blotted away the evidence of his little tryst.

Rory just shook her head, laughing to herself.

"Drinks?" Logan questioned and they all nodded at once, standing to head to the bar.

"Champagne for you?" he grinned, as if he was checking off boxes he'd put together during their study sessions.

She nodded, smiling as they walked away before pulling out her phone and texting her father.

 _'In and seated, let me know when you're here and we'll catch up.'_

She scanned the room, making notes of people she would need to stop by and see before the evening was through. Live music starting at the far end turned her attention to find the Gilmore's and Huntzberger's huddled together thick as thieves and she automatically rolled her eyes. Her mind wandered, and she couldn't help but wonder. What if they hadn't pushed so hard? What if she'd naturally met Logan at an event like this? Would or could anything have come from it? She frowned a little with the truth. No. His reputation would have far exceeded an introduction and she would have never gotten a chance to see him like… like her Logan.

She sucked in a deep breath.

Danger.

She smiled seeing Logan's return and took a sip from the glass he handed her as he settled in next to her, placing his arm around her shoulders as he scanned the room sipping scotch.

"Rory!" someone exclaimed, and she recognized the voice immediately, turning to see her father walking up to their table.

She smiled widely, standing, and rushing over to give him a hug.

"Dad," she finally pulled away, turning to introduce Logan, "this is…"

"Logan Huntzberger," he finished for her, extending his hand.

"Nice to finally meet you. Christopher Hayden, but I assumed you already knew that," he smiled, the two men shaking hands.

"Rory's told me so much about you," Logan smiled, his arm falling to the small of her back.

"I look forward to hearing all about you too," her dad laughed, "and I'm sure I will, my girl's a talker."

Rory blushed at the remark and her father affectionately added, "in the best way."

"She is certainly the most entertaining woman I've ever met," Logan smiled, looking at Rory.

"But, until then, where does a guy need to go to get one of those," her dad motioned toward Logan's drink on the table and the two men chuckled.

"Luckily, I know the way." Logan gestured in the direction of the bar, "I'll walk you over there."

"Excellent!" Christopher exclaimed, "we'll be right back."

Logan turned around and winked as Rory found her seat again.

Not too bad she thought, smiling. They'd get this night over with and then it would be smooth sailing from here on out until graduation, when she and Logan would fulfil the terms of their contract and could go their separate ways.

Plenty of time, she reminded herself gently, despite the pit forming in her stomach. There was still plenty of time.

Meanwhile, across the room a bartender poured a scotch while Logan made small talk. Christopher nodded and laughed as they traded brief stories about the boarding schools they'd both attended and then been kicked out of.

"Logan," he paused, taking a sip of his drink. "I have to tell you, you remind me a lot of myself at your age. There is no doubt you have a bright future ahead of you. I can understand your desire to have the right woman on your arm for all that."

"I appreciate that, sir, though it's really important to me that Rory's happy too. She's an amazing young woman," Logan smiled, a sudden relief washing over him that he hadn't expected.

Christopher nodded, frowning, "Which is why I'm going to offer you ten million dollars right now to end things with her."


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

Logan walked back to the table in a fog.

He somehow managed a half-way decent smile as Rory's father started to laugh and joke with his daughter, like nothing had happened. They seemed to be catching up on all things Yale and his parents' adventures in Europe, but Logan tuned it all out, recovering from feeling as though he'd just been punched in the gut. He downed his remaining scotch, rethinking their conversation at the bar.

One second it had been getting to know you type conversation, reminiscing over share experiences in their youth, people they both knew, places they'd both been. Then, BAM, he hadn't even seen it coming. Logan couldn't turn down the offer fast enough, he hadn't even taken a moment to consider what was being said before the word 'no' fell out of his mouth. Was this some sort of test? Was he in on it? What the hell just happened?

Christopher then proceeded to counter with 20 million dollars without batting an eye. This man was serious. _"If you think there is a price I'm not willing to pay for my daughter, you're wrong," he'd said, "It's nothing personal. Think it over."_

"You okay?" Rory suddenly whispered, pulling him from his train of thought.

He shook his glass, the ice clattering against the sides.

"I need a refill, you want anything?" he asked, standing, unable to even meet her gaze.

She shook her head and Logan all but bolted off.

He placed the empty glass on a passing tray and headed for an exit. Air. He needed air.

What a fool he was, he almost laughed. To think that they could play this game, that they could somehow ever win against those vultures. He breathed in deeply. Where would he even be if they'd said no? If she had? He couldn't help but run all the impossible scenarios through his head.

He was suddenly embarrassed, his pride broken, and he briefly imagined the shards of it just skipping about around him. What possible things could her father think of him to make an offer like that? To make a counteroffer like that? What awful things had he heard? The sinking feeling deepened as Logan put a name to it. Shame.

"You okay?" a sudden voice rang out and he looked up to see Rory standing in the doorway, her mouth turned down in a concerned frown.

He nodded, swallowing hard. "These things," he shrugged, playing it off. "I just needed some air."

She walked over and as she closed the distance between them, he couldn't help but look away.

"Did something happen with my Dad?" she questioned.

"No, not at all," he lied. What could he say? 'Your father offered me a lot of money to walk away because you're too good for me, oh, and you know, I know he's right but I'm also a selfish, arrogant, ass…'

"Did _your_ father say something?" she inquired again.

"No, no," he started, clearly flustered. "No one said or did anything, it's just a lot. It's more than I thought it would be."

She frowned, her hand touching his arm for a moment before he shook it off.

"I just don't even feel like myself anymore," he finally said, which wasn't a lie, but wasn't the truth either.

She perked up, a suddenly confident Rory with a plan. "Well, what would the old Logan Huntzberger do at something like this?"

"Honestly?" he laughed, sounding dejected still, "Leave."

Her hands found his face, forcing him to finally look at her.

"Then let's go," she smiled, stepping back and offering him her hand.

He stared at her for a second before shaking his head.

"If you jump, I jump, Jack," he grinned as they took off, sneaking down the side stairs to the waiting car out front.

The ride back to Yale had been a quiet one. Logan lost, deep in thought and wishing, wishing there was an easy answer for everyone involved, but that was a lie mostly for himself. He was once again thinking how much better Rory deserved. Better than him, better than this deal, and certainly better than the loved ones who would talk you into it.

"I'm sorry the night was so stressful," she finally chimed in apologetically as they made their way to her door.

"Hey, nothing you could do. Part of the family name." He laughed it off, shrugging. "I'm just glad I had great company, though it seems like I might be a bad influence."

"I could use a little of that," she smiled, unlocking the door, immediately slipping off her heels and dumping her things on the nearest chair.

"If anyone gives you any trouble, feel free to blame me," he offered halfheartedly, turning to head to the door.

"Logan?" she said, uncertainty in her voice.

He turned around and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. She was just so beautiful.

Before he could step back, her lips were on his, and for just a moment he forgot everything he'd been trying to convince himself of, but that voice in his head started to creep back in, saying what it always said: 'she's too good for you', but now with the added, 'and her father knows it too.'

He pulled away, breathless, "Rory, we can't."

"What?" she looked at him surprised, "did I do something wrong? Did I misread…"

"No!" he practically shouted, his hands raking through his hair. Then again, more quietly, " _no_."

"Logan?" she asked, surveying his agony, "what's wrong?"

He shook his head, his eyes meeting hers for only a moment before he reached for her, kissing her once again before turning to walk away.

This time, she reached for him.

"Don't," she said, both pleading and demanding, "I want _you_."

There was a depth in the way she said it, space between the letters and the lines, and Logan suddenly longed for it to mean more than that moment and how he would hate himself if it did. His thumb traced over her lips, cradling her face. He craved all of her, anything she was willing to give, he just wanted to be the incorrigible cad that took it.

She turned and kissed his palm before gripping his lapels, pulling him closer and kissing him, softly, as if trying to convince him, then fervently, with more need. Her hands pushed the jacket off his shoulders and her fingertips started undoing his tie, both tentative and skillful at the same time. A contradiction, just like the rest of her, and Logan couldn't help but think that if people were like books, she'd be the longest and most intricate novel and he only a chapter or two, simple and selfish as always. He couldn't help himself, he kissed her back and lost all remorse, like a man on death row, he wanted whatever time they had.

There suddenly was no deal, no contract, no one forcing them together. For this instant, they were just themselves, washed of all preconceived perceptions and plans, here because they both wanted to be, because they both wanted the other.

She broke the kiss, her teeth tugging gently at his lower lip as she pulled away.

She whispered, her eyes finding his, "Stay."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:** Enjoy!_

 _As always, please read and review. They truly help to keep me inspired to continue!_

 _Thanks to all who say such kind words and those that still come back, even after all this time._

 _I do plan on having this wrapped up in 20-21 chapters, so the end is in sight._

 _-notare_


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